If We Ever Meet Again
by Garnet Seren
Summary: This was writen for the August competition over at Aria's Afterlife. A short one-shot, detailing the beginnings of Kasumi & Keiji's relationship, starting with the competition to get that piece of artwork. Rated T for one minor swear word!


Glancing around, he catalogued the various windows and doors into the area, taking note of the multitude of columns and balustrades that adorned the room. He couldn't fail to notice the severe lack of surveillance cameras, whilst his Omni-Tool went to work covertly mapping the extent of any other security.  
_'Easier than expected,'_ he mused to himself, scratching his soul-patch goatee thoughtfully.

"Sincere appreciation: Thank you all for being here, for such a monumental event," the elcor droned. "Overjoyed excitement: This is a first edition, from a serious of seven that we will feature here at the museum and will be on display for the next four standard galactic months."

His attention was pulled from the mind numbingly monotonous voice, as a sleek figure sidled up to the front of the small crowd, and his gaze roved over the newcomer, completely unabashed.  
_'What a body,'_ he thought to himself, taking in the perfect hourglass figure encased in a petite, but elegant frame. _'Good looking too, well from what I can see under that hood.'  
_In truth, he couldn't see a lot, only the lower part of the woman's face was clearly visible, but he thought he saw her eyes twinkle, almost mischievously, from the shadows of her hood as she caught his eye.  
_'Did she just wink at me?'_ he wondered, before smiling at the stranger. _'She's like a little bird, pretty and playful'_

There were murmurs around the small group that notified him that the painting had been revealed, he'd been so engrossed with the hooded woman that he had failed to notice the hanar that had joined the elcor at the easel, and now that the he turned his attention reluctantly to his commission, he was far from impressed.  
_'That's it?'_ he wondered, eyeing what looked like paint splats by an angry toddler. _'I hate modern art'_

"I know the artist is hanar, but it looks like a child threw some paint at the canvas. What do you think, Mr…?" a sweet voice whispered in his ear.

"Okuda. Keiji Okuda," he introduced himself, also whispering. "And I agree, I'm sure my two year old niece Chihiro has painted better, Miss…?"

"Kasumi Goto," the hooded woman replied, still in hushed tones.

* * *

He silently slipped passed the drell guard, who sat, head rested on folded arms, sleeping soundly.  
_'Hojicha tea, works every time'_ Keiji smiled to himself.  
The tracking device and low level light of his Omni-Tool directed him through the labyrinth of a museum. Straight, left, straight, right, right, and straight again before he entered the gallery where the painting was situated.

Suddenly, a slight movement in the shadows caught his attention, forcing Keiji to press back into the nearest wall. Peering round the corner, he was met with nothing but the still, empty shadows.  
_'My minds playing tricks'_ he grumbled to himself, his hand racking through his black hair.

"Fancy seeing you here, Okuda-San," a sweet voice whispered, unexpectedly, in his ear.

Before his brain could register what was happening, he felt soft lips press against his. Without thinking, he closed his eyes, savouring the way her hand gently caressed his arm, and the kiss that ended all too soon.  
He re-opened his eyes in time to see a familiar hourglass figure materialise into view, the petite frame sashaying away from him.  
_'Tactical cloak'_ he laughed to himself.

Belatedly, he realised that his wrist was cuffed to the nearby heating pipe. Struggling against the metal binding did little but chafe his wrist.  
_'That damn ama…'_  
"Don't worry, it's on a timed lock, it will release you well before the authorities are alerted, but long after I've taken our little prize," Kasumi explained cheerfully.

He watched wordlessly, and reluctantly impressed, as she quickly overrode the painting's pressure switch, unmounts the artwork and carefully roll it into a tube that was slung to her back.  
_'Very cute'_ he thought, whilst he watched her place a red rose next to the now empty display.  
"I'll get you back for this Kasumi," he called, as her lithe frame disappeared into the ventilation shaft he had spotted during the unveiling.  
_'If we ever meet again'_ his brain added, as the cuff chimed it's release.

* * *

Keiji sighed, fiddling the collar of his tuxedo, he had always hated this sort of thing. The bright, glaring lights of Nos Astra didn't lend themselves to covert operations and the other guests, a host of apparently distinguished asari, salarian, turian, and even human officials, could bore him to tears. That was until he spotted a familiar hooded figure, stood on the balcony of the over-decadent apartment.

"What's somebody like you, doing in a place like this, Kasumi?" he whispered in her ear, smiling as his hands gently met the silk of her red and black dress that flowed over small her waist.

"Konbanwa, Keiji-San," she replied, her cheerful voice set in a low tone. "I see you left the museum in one piece, I'm glad."

"You won the last one, kotori, but the Star of Palaven is mine," he told her, before melding back into the crowded room.

It didn't take him long to infiltrate the private rooms of Destinaria Fedorian, sister to the turian Primarch, and even less time to locate the famed necklace that sat on the woman's dressing table.  
_'Not even in a display case'_ Keiji laughed to himself.  
Within seconds, he pocketed the sapphire and diamond necklace, slipping through the large French windows and dropping deftly from the balcony.

In moments, a black skycar came pulled up in front on him, and as the door slid open he almost laughed.  
"You've caused quite the stir," Kasumi grinned from beneath her hood. "Get in, before security figures it out."

Oddly, his instincts that had always told him to work alone up until now, were telling him a decidedly different story. Figuring it wasn't time to start ignoring his intuition, he clambered into the vehicle.  
"So where you taking me?" he asked as the skycar sped up.

"I figured your hotel room made the most sense," she replied, giving a barely perceivable shrug.

"How do you know I don't have an apartment here?" he asked, conversationally, studying the woman beside him.

Kasumi glanced at him. Well, he presumed she did, as she turned her head slightly in his direction.  
"Please," she laughed. "Who are you trying to kid?"

Smiling, Keiji folded his arms and settled back into his seat.  
"I suppose I don't need to tell you which hotel, or how to get there?" he enquired.

"Of course not," Kasumi grinned. "Hotel Moraro, Sedefi street, in the Sebula district."

He couldn't help but laugh.  
"Who am I to argue, Goutou?" he teased.  
_'She's won again'_ his brain retorted, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

* * *

The gentle hum of the engine, and the dim yellow lighting of the shuttle, filtered back into her awareness. Blinking rapidly, Kasumi cut the link to the grey box, as tears ran down her cheeks. Despite her hood, Kasumi knew the commander had noticed, Shepard always did, she was that type of woman. She felt an arm slip around her shoulders, and Kasumi let out a shuddering breath before managing a weak smile.

"Thanks Shep," she choked out, between sobs, leaning her head on the other woman's shoulder.

"Any time," Shepard replied. "Go ahead and watch another one if you want, I'll be here."

"Yeah, I will," Kasumi nodded gratefully, setting into the commander's embrace, before activating her visor again.

* * *

**A/N:  
These are the Japanese words used in this piece.  
-San – Mr/Ms  
Ama – Bitch  
Konbanwa – hello (evening time)  
Kotori – Little Bird  
Goutou – Robber **


End file.
